


Tabula Rasa

by Pixie (Ayiana)



Category: JAG
Genre: Gen, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-10-30
Updated: 2004-10-30
Packaged: 2017-10-06 13:31:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ayiana/pseuds/Pixie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set early in season 10. Sometimes all it takes is a fresh start.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tabula Rasa

Harm gathered up his things, snagged his cover from the shelf, and turned off his computer. It had been a particularly long and stressful day, and he was looking forward to a change of clothes, a cold beer, and some quiet music while he made dinner. As he pulled his office door closed behind him, he noticed that the lights in the bullpen had already been dimmed, and glanced at his watch. It was later than he'd thought it was. He'd gotten caught up in paperwork and lost track of the time. As he hurried toward the elevator, he noticed that the lights were still on in one of the courtrooms. He pushed open the door, intending to flip the switch and be gone, but stopped abruptly when he saw Mac at the defense table. Something about her posture looked wrong, but he couldn't put his finger on what it was.

"Mac?"

Her head jerked up, and she turned around abruptly, relaxing when she registered the identity of the intruder.

"Oh. Hi Harm."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she answered, her voice a shade too brittle. "I was just finishing up some paperwork."

"Are you sure?" he asked, concern edging his words despite his best effort to keep it out.

"Harm…" She sounded annoyed, and Harm raised his hands defensively as he moved toward her.

"Right. Don't push. Sorry." He sat down beside her, glimpsing the aimless doodles that covered her legal pad before she could flip it upside down. "I was just passing on my way out and noticed the light still on."

"I wanted to get some notes written down on this case before I left for the night."

Harm decided not to comment on the notepad. "Here?" He asked, looking around the room. "Why not work in your office?"

Mac shrugged. "Fewer interruptions in here," she said. "No telephone or email to worry about."

"I see." Harm sat down and stretched his legs out in front of him with a sigh. Mac grinned over at him.

"Make yourself at home," she said sardonically.

Harm angled his chin toward the window, where late the afternoon sunlight was creating a hazy golden glow. "It was a gorgeous day today."

"It was?" Mac said absently, gathering papers and folders into a lopsided pile in front of her. "I've been tied up in here all day. I didn't even notice."

Harm glanced over at her. "Tough day?"

"No tougher than usual," she answered, starting to put her things into her case.

"Want to talk about it?"

She didn't answer right away, and Harm wondered if she'd say he was pushing again. Surprisingly, she didn't. Instead, she sat back in her chair with a deep sigh.

"I don't know, Harm. I don't see how it would help."

Harm didn't answer, deciding instead to let her lead the conversation. They sat quietly for several long moments while the last rays of sun faded from the windows. When Mac finally spoke, her voice was low.

"How did my life turn into such a catastrophe?" she asked. "This past year's been unreal. One thing after another has gone wrong. I feel like I'm lost at sea without a compass."

There really wasn't anything to say to that. She was right. He settled for friendly support.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

The corners of her mouth twitched, hinting at a smile. "You're doing it," she answered.

Silence drifted over them again, and Harm let it settle, aware that the best thing he could do for Mac was to listen to her.

"You know," she finally said, "there was a time when I thought I had my life on a fairly even track. Work was going well, I had friends…I was happy. Then it all went to hell. Sadik, Webb, my health…" she looked over at him, her eyes dark and unhappy. "Where does it end?"

"I wish I could answer that, Mac." He dared to reach over and take one of her hands in his own. Her fingers curled around his, tightening as though she hoped to absorb his strength through her skin. He squeezed gently in reassuring response. "I'm here, Mac. You know you can talk to me – about anything."

She met his eyes, but shook her head slightly. "No I can't, Harm. There are things I can't even talk to you about."

Harm swallowed his automatic denial. It was obvious that she was firmly convinced that what she said was true, and he knew that nothing he could say would change her mind.

As though sensing his unease, Mac spoke up again. "Please, don't take that wrong. It's just that some of what I'm sorting through concerns you."

"Oh," he said, at a loss as to how else to respond. He wasn't sure if her needing to 'sort things out' about him was a good thing or a bad thing, but he knew better than to ask. An idea occurred to him then, and words leaped out of his mouth before he thought about what they could mean.

"Tabula rasa."

Mac looked puzzled. "Excuse me?"

"It means blank slate," he said, trying to explain

"I don't understand," Mac said, clearly still puzzled.

"Us, Mac. You and I." He paused, gathering his thoughts. "I've made more mistakes with you than I have with any other person I've ever cared about. There've been countless times over the years when I've said or done things that I've later wished I could take back or undo." He turned to face her more fully. "But the unfortunate fact is that I can't ever take them back or undo them."

Mac spoke up. "You aren't the only one who's made mistakes, Harm. I've made my share, too."

He smiled gently at her. "Then do you want to give it a try?"

She looked confused. "Give what a try?"

"Tabula rasa. We agree to leave the past in the past and start fresh from here."

Mac pulled her hand away from his and stood up. "I'm not sure that's possible, Harm. Nine years? That's a lot of history."

He stood up too. "I didn't mean to make it sound like we had to forget all of it. It's just that…" He paused, gathering his thoughts. "Look, I just want you to know that whatever you decide to do, I'm okay with it." He saw her raised eyebrows and shook his head, sighing in frustration. "I'm not explaining this very well." He lapsed into frustrated silence, and Mac waited for him to gather his thoughts.

"I guess…" he said, "…I guess I feel like I've spent a lifetime trying to live up to all these idealized notions of what I should be, of what a relationship should be, and yet things never really seemed to go the way I thought they were supposed to. Something, or someone, always seemed to send me off course. It's taken me years, but I've finally realized that there really isn't any 'should be' except the one we make for ourselves." He stopped talking and met her eyes. "I don't care about any of the 'shoulds' anymore, Mac. I only care that you're okay."

"Do you think it's possible?" she asked skeptically. "All the things we've both said and done over the years – you can just let that go?"

"Not let it go, so much as accept it, forgive it, and move forward," he answered. "I'm willing to try if you are," he smiled crookedly.

Mac considered him for long breathless moments, and Harm began to think she was going to turn down his offer.

"Tabula rasa, huh?" she finally said softly, as though testing the feel of the words in her mouth.

"Tabula rasa," he said confidently.

He watched, sensing the moment when she made a decision. She held out her hand, and the smile she gave him made it all the way to her eyes for the first time in weeks.

"Pleased to meet you," she said. "My name's Sarah MacKenzie."


End file.
